


Lєтнαℓ Pαятηєяѕнιρ

by Malicious_Intent



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Boba talks more than he should, Feral is alive, Humor, Imprisonment, Light-Hearted, Mild Language, Partnership, Sarcasm, Snark, Star Wars - Freeform, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-12-02 07:44:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11504838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malicious_Intent/pseuds/Malicious_Intent
Summary: It's always been the same - take the contract, complete the contract, and get paid. Boba was used to the routine when it came to working for Jabba the Hutt, but this time it's different... This time Jabba /demands/ that he have a partner, a young, inexperienced Zabrak named Feral.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Captain_Kiri_Storm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Kiri_Storm/gifts).



> OK... I was writing this, and I really, really, REALLY liked it. I may add to this, make something bigger out of it... Like a Boba Fett/Feral pairing... What do you guys think?
> 
> DEDICATED/GIFTED TO: Captain_Kiri_Storm. I hope you like it! I tried my best with the snark lol.

“I don’t do partners.”

 

How many times had Boba Fett made that statement to Jabba? How many times had he found the dissatisfaction of repeating himself to the crime lord? Looking over at the thin, armored zabrak, the mandalorian couldn’t help the slightest amount of amusement. The zabrak was small enough that Boba could easily break his spine with a well-aimed kick.

 

 Jabba huffed loudly and began to speak again, everyone present easily able to recognize the annoyance in his tone, whether they understood what he was saying or not. Most would recognize this as a time to tread carefully, if they were even still alive at that point, but Boba never did. He was more valuable to Jabba alive than dead.

 

“The great and mighty Jabba wants you to know that this is his final offer.” Bib Fortuna announced dramatically, leering at the mercenary with contempt. “You are to work with the chosen candidate, or you are not to receive the contract.”

 

Silence fell as every creature, person, and being turned their attention onto Boba Fett, waiting to see how he would respond.

 

Boba turned slowly to face the zabrak again, staring for a long moment as he waited for the chosen ‘candidate’ to falter. He didn’t. Perhaps he wouldn’t be useless after all.

 

Without a word, the mandalorian turned and headed for the door, never once having to deviate from his path as those in his way quickly gave him room. Footsteps followed, before the band started up again and drowned them out. Good. At least the noob didn’t have to be told what he’d decided.

 

Out in the hall, Boba lashed out as soon as the doors closed behind him, his booted foot catching behind the zabrak’s knee just as the mandalorian’s fist connected with the tattooed male’s throat, sending him down to the ground.

 

Staring down at the choking mercenary, Boba felt that disdain rise up again. “Useless. If the contract didn’t demand your survival, I would shoot you right now.”

 

Golden eyes met the darkened visor as the zabrak caught his wind and glared. “If there wasn’t a contract, I wouldn’t lower myself to working with you.”

 

“You’d have to rise pretty high to even gain my attention, much less be worth the sum it’d take to hire me to knock you off. Now I’d love to make an exception.” Boba stared down at the younger male, standing as still as a statue as he processed the zabrak. Young, foolish, but obviously skilled enough that Jabba would hand-pick him as his partner, weak looking, but looks could be deceiving. “You’re weak, little training, either banished or the nightbrother’s have lowered their standards.”

 

A cold smile curled over the yellow and black zabrak’s lips as he got back up to his feet. “Broken neck actually. They think I’m dead.”

 

Boba raised his eyebrows, even if the gesture was unseen. “And I doubt none the happier for it.”

 

Tenseness reigned, the two Gamorrean guards standing by the door watching with obvious interest. Anything that even _looked_ like it might develop into a fight was interesting for them.

 

“Regardless, I’m stuck with you, and you have to make sure I survive.” The zabrak responded coldly, moving to brush past the mandalorian. “Otherwise you won’t get paid.”

 

“It’s beginning to look like a good investment.”

 

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

 

It seemed that the little zabrak couldn’t be intimidated, perhaps the only thing that was useful so far for when they were working in the field, but useless when it came to their partnership. If the zabrak couldn’t be intimidated, then he couldn’t be effectively told what to do.

 

“Where do you think you’re going, Zabrak?” Boba questioned, standing in the middle of the hall as his ‘partner’ began to head off on his way. Hopefully he’d get lost and Boba wouldn’t have to deal with dragging his sorry ass everywhere.

 

“I’m known as Feral,” the zabrak responded without a hitch in his step, still walking to wherever it was that he was headed. “And I’m going to the landing platform to retrieve my ship.” Feral added, Boba snorting as he moved at a steady gait to draw up beside the zabrak, demeanor cold and unfeeling. “We’re not using your ship.”

 

Feral stopped midstep now, turning to face the mandalorian, pushing a hand against the armored chest as he shoved Boba back a little, the other warrior immediately deflecting him away. “You might think that your reputation and obvious favor with Jabba puts you in charge, but it doesn’t. Now you either come with me, or you go back there and terminate the contract with Jabba.” He ordered.

 

“I’m not stepping foot onto whatever piece of shit you call a ship. Just because you have a few pieces of scrap metal welded together doesn’t mean it classifies.” Boba answered, undaunted by the zabrak’s attempt to become physically aggressive, “either we use my ship, or you head back in there and tell Jabba that you’re not as good as he thought.”

 

The two mercenaries silently glared at one another, each waiting for the other to back down, but it was clear that Feral had become uncertain with the way he was shifting foot to foot. The mandalorian stood like a rock, unmoving, undaunted, silently refusing to back down.

 

“Fine.” Feral snapped, motioning sharply down the hall.

 

“I thought there was something of a mind in there,” the armored male retorted, heading down the hall as if nothing had happened, Feral at his heels.

 

There was many reasons for Fett wanting to use his own ship, first and formost being that he knew everything about it, and that it was one of the best ships the galaxy possessed. Secondly, Feral would be entering into his territory and expected to abide by the rules he gave. As far as Boba was concerned, Feral was an unwanted crew. _He’d_ be giving the orders.

 

“I thought welding scrap metal together didn’t classify as a ship?”

 

Feral’s voice pulled Boba from his thoughts, the mandalorian silent pinging the ship with the required codes to shut off the proximity defenses and lower the boarding ramp. He refused to respond to the younger’s attempt at aggravating him. Feral was already doing a good job of that.

 

A loud _thunk_ caused the armored mandalorian to swing around towards the sound, Boba unsure of what to expect from the sound, finding that Feral had only dropped his crate of... whatever he’d brought with him – on the floor of the cargo bay.

 

“Do I really seem so threatening?” Feral questioned smugly, head cocked to the side as he leaned against the wall.

 

Emotionlessly, Boba tilted his face up to regard the other silently for a few moments. “No. I had merely hoped you’d suddenly met your end and that was the sound of your lifeless body hitting the floor. Pick it up.”

 

Snorting, Feral looked at his designated ‘partner’ in amusement. “Pick what up? It’s a cargo bay. Isn’t this the best place to leave stuff?”

 

Boba Fett stepped in nice and close, close enough that the zabrak’s breath fogged the bottom half of his visor. “This is my ship, you’ll obey my commands. Pick it up, or get off.”

 

Leering at the older warrior, Feral leaned over and picked it up again, unamused. “Where then, shall I be staying?” He demanded, his sarcastically sweet tone grating on Boba’s nerves as the mandalorian spun around and headed deeper into the ship. Again, he expected Feral to follow, and he wasn’t disappointed this time either.

 

“I have to stay in the hold area? I suppose that makes me safest. They’ll get you first.”

 

A smile spread across Fett’s face, but there was no amount of amusement in it, making the smile almost eerie had Feral been able to see it. “It’ll be the first place to get hit if we come under attack while travelling.”

 

Stepping aside of a doorway, Boba motioned towards the room.

 

Feral stopped just outside of the room, taking in the sparse surroundings. It was honestly better than what he had back on the _Nexus_.

 

Waiting patiently for the zabrak to step inside, Boba turned and pressed his hand against the control console, crossing his arms over his chest as forceshield lit up. “Enjoy your lodgings.”

 

“What the fuck, Fett!” Feral cried, stepping up close to the field separating him from the mandalorian, though he was intelligent enough to not get close enough to touch it. “This wasn’t part of the deal!”

 

“Wrong,” the mandalorian responded, moving towards the ladder leading up into the cockpit. “With you there, there’s no risk of you dying, and I don’t have to worry about you getting underfoot. I’ll let you out when we come back to Tattooine, and if you want to get paid and avoid the humiliation, you’d know to not say anything.” Boba responded, one hand on the ladder now as he turned to look over his shoulder at the zabrak. “I’ll try to remember you. Most of the time I’m compensated for feeding my prisoners, but I’m sure Jabba won’t mind if you’re a little hungry when we return.”

 

With that said, Boba Fett mounted the ladder and climbed up into the cockpit, ignoring the shouting from his unexpected visitor. With luck, he’d complete the mission within his usual timeframe and be rid of Feral before too long.

 

Jabba never said anything about actually working together after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba and Feral have begun their travels, one as the pilot and the other as a prisoner. Boba wishes to do everything himself while we begin to see the consequences of Feral being resurrected.

Regardless of his threats, Boba Fett _did_ return to the hold of the ship in order to feed his partner. Or was it prisoner now? Not that either title really mattered, since Feral would be remaining where he was until they returned to Tattooine in order to deliver the desired artifact to Jabba.

 

It confused Boba really. What use did a Hutt have for the Red Flame?

 

The answer was obviously none, but that still didn’t answer the question of why Jabba seemed to want it so badly. Perhaps he was acquiring it for someone else? Someone who wanted to remain anonymous? But that would be odd, especially since Jabba didn’t do anything for others unless it benefitted him.

 

 Not that it mattered. Boba Fett didn’t question his bounties, nor did others question what he did in order to get paid. He drew the line at children, but there wasn’t anyone alive to tell others that.

 

“Well don’t you look smug?”

 

The question drew Boba back to the present, the Mandalorian glancing over his shoulder at the zabrak currently imprisoned in one of the cells before turning his attention back to descending down the ladder. “I don’t see where that accusation came from, seeing as you have no idea how I look beneath the helmet.” He responded.

 

Feral gave a snort, glaring at the other as he paced back and forth in the cell, obviously frustrated and annoyed. “I will get out of here.” He finally announced, stopping his pacing long enough to turn and fully face his captor and partner.

 

“I eagerly await to see how you manage that.” Boba answered, not at all worried as he approached. “Even if you have weapons with you, I doubt you have anything powerful enough to cut through the field, or to disrupt it.” The Mandalorian looked the zabrak up and down pointedly before continuing, “that would require serious funds.”

 

Ignoring the jab, Feral stepped up close to the forcefield, gold eyes narrowed as he regarded the older for a few moments. “And yet Jabba still chose me. Doesn’t that at least interest you?”

 

“Not at all,” the amor-clad male responded, producing a concentrate stick, inspecting it for a moment before holding it up to Feral.

 

The zabrak’s lip lifted in a leer as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not eating that.”

 

Boba Fett shrugged. “Fine. But don’t expect anything else, because there isn’t. If you don’t want to eat, then that saves me a bit of trouble.” The Mandalorian responded, turning away to leave before Feral gave a growl. “Give it.” He ordered.

 

Turning back towards the tattooed male, Boba stepped back up to him, motioning for Feral to move away from the field. “All the way to the back corner, turn around, and lie on your stomach.” He ordered.

 

Feral stared at the other bounty hunter through the forcefield in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

 

“Very.”

 

Shaking his head a little, Feral glared at the visor that prevented him from looking into the mandalorian’s eyes, obviously annoyed when he turned away to do as he was told.

 

“I can’t believe you do this every time you come down here to feed your prisoner’s.” The zabrak grumbled, Boba Fett turning off the shield to toss the stick inside before shutting it again. “I don’t.” He responded contentedly as he turned to leave. “I don’t have to feed them most times.”

 

Feral scrambled to the forcefield to look after the Mandalorian as he began to climb up the ladder towards the cockpit. “Are you seriously going to leave me here until we get to Csilla??” He questioned loudly, getting as close to the humming field as he dared.

 

“I plan on leaving you there until we return to Jabba.” Boba answered nonchalantly, reaching up to grab the ladder before pausing to look over his shoulder at the younger male, an air of indifference filling the space between them. “Of course, if I die while trying to retrieve the required artifact, you might be rescued by the Jedi. That is if I don’t keep evidence on file that you were a partner in the attempt.”

 

The golden eyes narrowed in a glare, Feral looking like he was about to attempt to jump through the forcefield just to strangle the Mandalorian, lips peeling back in a snarl to reveal sharp fangs.

 

“Luckily for you, there is a very little likelihood of me either dying or being captured in the attempt.” Boba added, turning around to begin mounting the ladder back up into the cockpit.

 

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait!!” The zabrak called desperately, relived when the older male stopped to look over his shoulder at him, Feral relaxing slightly. “What’s the chance? Like, give it to me straight.”

 

“Seventy-two percent.”

 

Feral’s shoulders drooped again, the younger bounty hunter obviously not happy with those odds. “There’s nothing to improve that?” He questioned uncertainly, the Mandalorian turning away from him to continue up into the cockpit, ignoring the questions that spouted from his prisoner.

 

Watching the Mandalorian disappear, Feral sighed loudly, leaning back against the wall to slide down to sit on the floor. He was trapped. Just as trapped as he had been when his own brother had wrapped his fingers around his throat and snapped his spine. He shuddered at the memory, the young zabrak’s breathing becoming slightly labored as he felt the ghostly fingers squeezing his throat, a tattooed hand reaching up to ensure there was truly nothing there.

 

Why had Savage done it? Feral didn’t know, but he was set on finding out at some point. Why had the witches resurrected him? That was something else he couldn’t explain, no matter how long he thought about it. There were so many questions running rampant through his mind, and it was torturous to be left alone in the confinement of the cell with only obnoxious thoughts to keep him company.

 

Feral’s claws dug into his head, the young male tasting blood from where he’d bitten through his lip, the zabrak rocking back and forth as he attempted to sooth himself. It was at times like this when he didn’t care what the explanation was for his brother’s actions. There was one thought that Feral clung too in the moments his own mind tortured him, and that was the fact that he would one day find Savage, and he would kill him. But first he will drive him insane. Allow him to feel even the tiniest bit of what he himself did, make Savage understand just how much he’d suffered.

 

Maybe that had been the witches’ plan all along. Have him kill his brother. But then why would they have chosen Savage in the first place? Was it some sort of sick game?

 

Feral’s low snarl rose into a high-pitched scream, the young zabrak throwing his head back against the wall behind him, uncaring of the pain it caused. Pain was what kept him grounded.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not write stories unless it's a request, meaning I fill prompts given to me.
> 
> I will write about any fandom (crossover or not) and below are my favourites. If yours is not listed, ask, and I may still do it.  
> Teen Wolf  
> Teen Titans  
> Prison Break  
> Star Wars  
> Transformers  
> The Flash  
> Legends of Tomorrow  
> The Arrow  
> Outlander  
> Riddick


End file.
